Isn't Love Grand?
by F.D. Tamms
Summary: COMPLETE This fic is no longer treading in the waters known as "pointless fluff"-it's drowning in them. Gah. Toby and Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney Todd contemplate what they thought they knew about love.
1. Chapter 1

"Pregnant!" Cried one woman.

Toby was sweeping and waiting on customers. He couldn't help overhearing the conversation between the gaggle of girls at the table. Although the shop was as crowded as ever, the girls were louder.

One of them—she looked to be in her early twenties, they all did—was blushing, but she looked quite pleased.

"Yes," she smiled, "for about three months now. I'm due in April." The girls shrieked with joy.

Toby tried to ignore them, but it was difficult. "I feel so elated and in love," the pregnant girl gushed. "Timothy has been an absolute dear. He's terribly excited as well."

The other girls cooed in admiration. "Gosh, I wish I could fall in love like that," one of them sighed. The others murmured and muttered in agreement.

"Love is a wonderful thing," one of the girls said wisely. It took a moment or two for Toby to realize that, although she couldn't have been much older than the other girls, she had a baby bundled in her arms.

"And your daughter is so lovely!" The pregnant girl squealed. "She's so congenial and sweet. Oh, waiter!" She cried suddenly.

It took several moments for Toby to realize she was talking to him. He came over to the group looking embarrassed, trying and failing to look as though he hadn't been listening in on their conversation. "Yes'm?" He asked politely.

The girls all squealed with delight. "So polite!" One cried.

"He's darling!" Another sighed.

Toby felt his cheeks flush. The pregnant girl smiled at him. "You are lovely. May I ask your name?"

Toby nodded reluctantly. "It's Toby," he said. She continued to smile at him.

"Toby, could I request two of your meat pies to go?"

Toby nodded fervently. "Yes'm."

"You are polite," she giggled. "I hope my child is exactly like you when he—or she—grows up."

Toby played dumb well. "Are you expecting, miss?" He asked.

She giggled. "Yes. I'm due in April." Toby smiled awkwardly. He wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to respond to a statement like that.

"That's wonderful!" He said, grinning weakly.

She sighed happily and smiled up at him again. "Isn't love grand?" She asked.

It was rhetoric, of course. But Toby didn't know that.

"I dunno," He whispered, making a mental note to ask Mrs. Lovett when he got the chance.


	2. Chapter 2

"Mum?"

It was evening, and Toby was helping Mrs. Lovett clean up shop. He had just flipped the "open" sign to "closed" and was currently sweeping up flour around the counter.

Mrs. Lovett was scrubbing tabletops. "Yes, dearie?" She bubbled.

It had been a wonderful day for business, and Mrs. Lovett was incredibly happy. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered.

Toby thought, while she was in a good mood, it was as good a time as any to ask her. "Mum…what is "love"?"

Mrs. Lovett's face fell—she looked rather taken aback. "Why're you askin' something like that?" She inquired.

Toby shrugged. "A lady asked me about it in the shop today," he said. Mrs. Lovett looked at him with raised eyebrows. "She said "isn't love grand?" and I couldn't answer her 'cause I didn't know what the answer was. So…what is love?"

Mrs. Lovett went back to scrubbing. "She was probably just askin' a rhetorical question," Mrs. Lovett murmured.

"What's that?" Toby asked.

Mrs. Lovett straightened up. "Well, it's a question you ask when you don't want an answer."

Toby couldn't comprehend why someone would ask a question if they didn't want an answer. It was unfathomable. "But….mum, even if she didn't want an answer, I do. What is love?"

Mrs. Lovett's already pink cheeks grew pinker. "Toby, I can't answer that."

"Why? Have you never been in love before?"

Mrs. Lovett swallowed.

"I have," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

"You have?" Toby asked. He couldn't mask the curiosity in his voice.

Mrs. Lovett nodded, her cheeks reddening again. "Course I have," she muttered.

Toby came over to her and sat down at one of the already clean tables. "What was it like? Were you happy? Say," he said, his eyes widening, "Are you still in love?"

"Toby!" Mrs. Lovett gasped. "Good Lord, so nosy!"

Toby hung his head. Mrs. Lovett watched him for a few moments before sitting down beside him and ruffling his hair. "It was a while ago. I remember being very happy and very sad at the same time."

Toby looked up at her, his eyes full of confusion. "Happy **and** sad? Why, mum?"

She sighed. "I was sad because he didn't feel the same way as me. He was kind to me, though, and that made me happy. I was happy just to be close to him."

Toby was still confused. "But, mum—wasn't it your husband that you were in love with?"

Mrs. Lovett flushed. She looked nervous. "O-of course, Toby. Of course it was my husband."

"Then how could he have not felt the same way? Didn't he marry you 'cause he loved you?"

Mrs. Lovett looked at Toby sadly, the color fading slightly from her face. "People don't always marry for love, dearie."

Toby rested his head in his hands. "What IS love?" He asked again, exasperated.

Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Love is many things, Toby. You probably won't know what it is exactly until you feel it for yourself. I don't think I can define it for you."

"Could Mr. Todd? Could Mr. Todd tell me what it is?"

Mrs. Lovett froze. "Er….what?"

Toby grinned. "I'll ask Mr. Todd! I bet he'll have a good answer for me."

She just gaped at him.

He slid out of his chair and, without so much as a second thought, headed for the stairs.

"Wait, Toby!" Mrs. Lovett called after him. He didn't answer.

"Damn," Mrs. Lovett muttered. She gathered her skirts and followed him up to the barber shop, her heart fluttering nervously.

What had she done now?


	4. Chapter 4

Sweeney Todd was polishing one of his razors, staring out his enormous window onto the rooftops of London

Sweeney Todd was polishing one of his razors, staring out his enormous window onto the rooftops of London.

It had been a quiet day—only one customer had come in. Not that that bothered him very much. After all, if Sweeney Todd had thought that it was possible for him to enjoy something, he would have enjoyed…

"MR.TODD!"

…quiet.

He grimaced and continued to clean his razor. Toby was knocking at his door and calling for him very energetically.

"Mr. Todd!" He cried. "Mr. Todd!"

"Go away," he snarled loudly. "And be quieter. You'll wake everyone in the bloody neighborhood."

"Mr. Todd, let me in, please," Toby called, quieter. "I need to ask you something."

Todd walked over to the door, anger bubbling inside of him. He wrenched it open and saw Toby standing there, mousy and eager as always. A silly smile was plastered to his face.

Todd frowned. "What d'you want?" He asked gruffly.

Toby's smiled faltered a bit. "Well…I was talkin' to mum and I was wondering…Mr. Todd, what is love?"

Todd stared at him blankly for several moments. Toby looked concerned. "Mr. Todd? Are you okay?" He asked.

Todd opened his mouth but said nothing.

As they stood in silence, Mrs. Lovett appeared, panting heavily. "Toby…I…you…too fast…I…my heart…" She clutched at her chest.

Toby looked nervously from Todd to Mrs. Lovett. "Mum…are you alright?" He asked. She waved at him to continue with what he was saying.

"Mr. Todd…" Toby began. "I was wonderin' if you could tell me what love is, 'cause I was asked about it by a lady in the shop today and mum said she was probably askin' a rhetorical question and then she said she'd been in love with her husband but he didn't love her back and so she couldn't explain what love is to me and so I got to wonderin' if you knew."

He'd said it all very fast. Todd blinked as he tried to comprehend. "I can't help you," he said.

He tried to close the door on the both of them but Toby stopped him. "You've never been in love before, Mr. Todd?"

Toby was shocked when a pained expression drifted over Sweeney Todd's face. But it was gone as quickly as it had come. "No," he said shortly. He slammed the door in their faces.


	5. Chapter 5

Toby stood with Mrs. Lovett outside the shop. He sighed heavily. "I should've known Mr. Todd wouldn't help me," he grumbled.

Having regained her composure, Mrs. Lovett rubbed Toby's back. "I tried to tell you that, love," she murmured. "No excuse for him being so rude to you, though."

Toby sighed again. "Mum, can't you give me a vague idea of what love is? Please. Just your own definition. It doesn't have to be anything fancy."

Now it was Mrs. Lovett who sighed. "Toby I…well, I'll try."

Toby watched as she thought about it. They were standing out there for several minutes before she spoke again. "Love is…it's different for everyone. People do very bad things when they're in love."

Toby got the feeling she was apologizing for something.

"Love is sometimes painful and sometimes infuriating. It's wonderful and it's…terrible," she finished lamely.

Toby looked confused. "Is it grand, though?" He asked.

Mrs. Lovett shrugged. "You'll have to decide that for yourself, dearie. It's late. You best be getting off to bed." She gently kissed his forehead.

"Aren't you coming down, too?" He asked. Mrs. Lovett shook her head.

"I need to talk to Mr. Todd about something."

Toby left her standing at the top of the staircase, his head swimming with what she had told him.

Mrs. Lovett's definition of love sounded painful. He thought of the pregnant girl and hoped she hadn't been hurt by the person she loved. It didn't seem likely.

He thought about Mr. Todd and wondered if he really hadn't ever loved anyone. It seemed plausible, but horrible.

When he got back to the pie shop he was extremely frustrated to find the door locked.

"Damn," he muttered. He looked up to Sweeney Todd's barbershop. He didn't want to interrupt what was probably a deep conversation between Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett, but what was he supposed to do? Wait until she came back downstairs? It could be hours before that happened. Toby knew that sometimes men took a long time when they were talking to women. Sometimes, Toby would get locked out of Pirelli's place of residence when he was talking with a woman. They would be inside for hours at a time. He'd always hated that. He decided to go upstairs and get the key even though it could be disastrous for his health.

He came up the stairs slowly and quietly, his heart thudding violently. He peered through the tiny window in Sweeney Todd's door and was shocked to see something he had never expected.

Sweeney Todd was holding Mrs. Lovett in his arms. Her hands were pressed up against his chest. They seemed to be dancing, or at least swaying back and forth to a very slow song. Their foreheads were touching, and both of them looked (something similar to) happy.

They seemed to be talking while they did this.

Toby was dumbfounded. He had never seen Mr. Todd look so tender, or gentle, or any combination of the two. And he had never seen Mrs. Lovett look so happy. For a moment, he thought they looked like lovers who had known each other all their lives. Or like a mother and father enjoying a Sunday evening dance.

Toby could see that, for all their abuse of one another, Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett were in love, or something like it.

Suddenly, he understood what it was that Mrs. Lovett had meant. Love was very different for every person. He thought of the pregnant girl and assumed that her love story was very different from Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovett's.

"I see," he whispered. "Love is different for everyone, and sometimes is doesn't make any sense, but it is always grand."

Somehow, getting inside didn't seem so important anymore.

**Awww…..FLUFFIEST STORY EVER! That was the last chapter, but the story isn't over yet. I still have an epilogue to post (which I'll do later today).**

**No, it isn't an epilogue in which all killing is forgotten and Sweeney suddenly forgets about Lucy (well actually it kind of is sort of like that second bit. But just a little.).**

**It's an epilogue that occurs during the fifth chapter. In other words, it's the story of what happened between Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett when they were in the barbershop. It's what caused them to be so lovey-dovey(ish).**


	6. epilogue

"Mrs, Lovett, might I inquire as to who it was that you were in love with

**GAH ZOMG IT'S SO LOOOONG**

**Ahem. This is an epilogue of sorts. It's not really an epilogue; it's more of a bonus (?) story that occurs within the 5****th**** chapter. I used some lyrics near the end. I don't own any of the lyrics (I only own the very tiny alteration I made to these)—they belong to Mr. Steven Sondheim. **

**Also, I apologize for how incredibly out of character Sweeney Todd is in this story. I watched the movie yesterday and was struck by how I had completely ignored how…bitchy Sweeney actually is when I was writing my fics. Seriously. He's an ass. I still love him, though (sigh…I'm exactly like Mrs. Lovett. Only not quite as crazy. I hope.).**

"Mr. T, that was awful rude of you to slam the door on us like that," Mrs. Lovett said upon entering the barber shop.

But Sweeney Todd had more important things on his mind. "Mrs. Lovett, might I inquire as to who it was that you were in love with?"

Mrs. Lovett paused. He could tell she was annoyed that he had asked the very question she'd so obviously longed to avoid.

"Because if I'm not mistaken"—he wasn't—he never was—"it was Albert who proposed to you."

He saw her swallow. "And why would you know a thing like that?" She asked.

Todd shrugged. "Lucy told me. She said that you didn't seem too happy about it, though—I always thought that was strange. Why would you say yes if you didn't love him? If it wasn't your husband you were in love with, who was it?"

"It wasn't me I was talkin' about," she murmured as she lingered in the doorway. "I was just sayin' things in a way Toby would understand, is all."

Todd smirked at her. "Oh really?" He asked.

"Really," she said.

She was lying. It was plain for him to see.

"Tell me the story, then."

Mrs. Lovett looked blatantly surprised. "Mr. T, you want to hear me talk?" She asked. "Are you feelin' okay?"

He frowned at her. "Just come and tell me the story," he snapped.

She came over to him cautiously, as though she expected him to attack her. Was she frightened of him? He didn't think so.

Was she afraid of embarrassment? More importantly, why did he care?

She sat down in the vacated chair, gripping the arms as though clinging for life. He rolled his eyes and sat across from her, on the chest by the windowsill.

"Well, let's see. It was a long time ago. My friend—Margery, her name was—she loved her neighbor. He was kind and gentle and beautiful, and she loved him with all her heart."

Todd realized that, as she spoke, Mrs. Lovett was looking past him—out the window, he supposed. She wasn't talking directly to him—he found her a bit difficult to understand.

"Mrs. Lovett," he growled, "could you look at me when you speak? I can barely hear you."

Her eyes flickered to his face and he was surprised to see the emotions swirling in them—fear, sadness and what appeared to be a deep melancholy. Or something to that extent.

He looked at her eyelashes. They were long and curly and a shade lighter than her hair.

"…Margery loved the man, but she knew that he could never love someone like her. She thought he loved someone else. So she left him be. But as time passed, she grew lonely and desperate for affection. There was a man who was interested in Margery. He was kind and lovable, a good friend—but she didn't feel the way for him that she felt for her neighbor."

Todd's eyes strayed from her face as she spoke. They trailed over her forehead, which he noticed now was sweaty. Was it due to exertion from running up the stairs? Or was it due to nervousness? Was she really nervous?

Did it matter?

"Then one day, the neighbor came over with a woman. He was over to tell her that they were to be married. The girl he had brought along was gorgeous—Margery knew she could never compete. They were married in the spring. Margery tried to be friends with the woman and succeeded. They became good friends, close confidantes. And then the man who was interested in Margery came over to see her—and he proposed."

As she said this, Mrs. Lovett's voice grew quiet. Todd had to lean in closer to her to hear her voice when she continued. His eyes grazed her wild hair and her cheekbones. _She's actually attractive,_ he thought.

He mentally slapped himself for thinking such a thing.

Why was he looking at her in this way? Was it due to their close proximity to each other?

"Margery was prepared to tell him "no" when she saw her neighbor and his wife wandering around outside, so in love and so happy. Margery told her suitor that she would marry him and that was that."

She kept licking her lips. He could smell perfume on her.

"Margery and her fiancée were married in the fall. It was a cool day in late September, and Margery acted like she was very happy, but really all she wanted was her old life back."

Todd's eyes focused on Mrs. Lovett's lips. They were darkened by her lip makeup but he could tell that, without the makeup, her lips would be as pale as her skin.

"…And then one day, suddenly, for no reason, Margery's neighbor moved away and he took his wife with him. Margery was heartbroken but she tried to move on. After all…Mr. T, are you listening to me?"

He was still staring at her lips. At the sound of her tone his eyes found hers. "Yes," he muttered. "Yes, yes, of course. Continue."

Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes and began again. "After all, nothing had ever happened between her and her neighbor anyway. She began to immerse herself in her life with her husband, who she did care about. She just didn't love him like she had loved her neighbor. As their years together passed, Margery's husband grew sick. She did everything she could to try and save him but he grew sicker and sicker until one day he died."

Todd's had strayed to Mrs. Lovett's hands. They were twisting the skirt of her dress, turning and twisting the fabric until it could no longer be twisted or turned. They were pearly white.

"Margery was on her own again. She worked at the shop she had owned with her husband for several years until a new person moved into what had been her love's home."

Sweeney Todd considered Mrs. Lovett. She was attractive, in her own way. She was kind—to both him and Toby. Actually, she was kind to everyone. She was loyal to him—how many women would shelter a murderer? How many women would help a murderer? Not many. She was also smart, and streetwise. She wasn't naïve at all.

He shook his head infinitesimally to clear his mind. Why was he thinking these things? All that "love" talk of Toby's must have caused some sort of malfunction in his brain.

He didn't love Mrs. Lovett. Love was roses and happiness and sunny days and yellow hair. Love was Lucy.

Love had nothing to do with contempt. Or overwhelming physical attraction. Or killing. Or waltzing. Or…did it?

Toby had asked what love was. Love didn't have to be one "kind" of love, did it? Couldn't it have many shades and colors and meanings and feelings?

But Lucy. He loved Lucy. She had been his life, his reason for existence. She still was. But Mrs. Lovett…he tried to imagine Mrs. Lovett leaving him. The thought was ridiculous, silly. She would never leave. She loved him too much. But if she did leave…if she was gone suddenly… "No," he said.

Mrs. Lovett stopped talking. "'No' what, love?" She asked.

He shook his head. "It's nothing. Continue."

She did.

"He was completely different from her old neighbor—there wasn't a trace of kindness in his face or soul. But he was beautiful. Margery fell for him hard and fast. But her new neighbor ignored her. He verbally abused her. He avoided looking at her, or talking to her. And yet she loved him and could not stop. That's the end, Mr. T.

Sweeney Todd stared at Mrs. Lovett. He didn't want to be away from her. Not ever. He wanted her to always be there, by his side, helping him in her own little way. She was helping him just by talking to him. Just by looking at him longingly. Perhaps knowing that one person needed and wanted him alive was the only thing that kept him alive.

He wasn't certain. He'd never thought about it that way.

"Mrs. Lovett…?" He asked. "Your friend Margery…did she ever get her second neighbor's love?"

Mrs. Lovett looked at him, confusion in her eyes. She obviously knew that he knew that the whole story had been about her own life and her relationship with Benjamin Barker, Lucy Barker, Albert Lovett and Sweeney Todd. "Mr. T…?"

Sweeney Todd thought about Mrs. Lovett and love in general for a moment.

He loved her, he thought. That had to be it. Why else would he have kept her alive when he could have killed her in seconds? Why else would he want to touch her right then and there?

"Mrs. Lovett…I think that Margery's neighbor…I think that he cared about her far more than she thought."

Mrs. Lovett looked at him in surprise. "Do you really think that?" She asked.

"I do," he murmured.

He was confused and flustered at his realization. His love for Mrs. Lovett—if he did love Mrs. Lovett—was so completely different from how his love for Lucy had been, who could blame him for thinking he hated her?

That wasn't true, though. He didn't think he hated her—sometimes he did hate her. Was that part of love too?

"Mrs. Lovett…what did you tell Toby love was?"

Mrs. Lovett looked surprised to see him interested. "Well, I said love had many different forms and that he probably wouldn't understand what it was exactly until he felt it for himself. Then I told him what "my" love—actually Margery's love—was like, and then I told him I had nothing left to tell him." She paused to think. "I also told him that love was painful sometimes, and wonderful at others. I guess I told him a lot."

Sweeney Todd stood up. Mrs. Lovett imitated him. She stumbled slightly as she did so, leading her to catch herself on Todd's chest. He blinked in surprise when her body hit his.

Love had many different forms. How true.

He held her to him. "Mr. T?" She asked.

"Shut up," he grumbled.

Then he let her go and she looked at his face, searching for meaning. "What's gotten into you?" She asked, though she didn't sound displeased. Just curious.

He then took hold of her again. His arms wrapped tenderly around her waist. He pressed his forehead to hers.

Mrs. Lovett was stiff against him at first, but she melted quickly. She nestled her hands into the folds of his shirt, her fingers touching his collarbone lightly.

"Mrs. Lovett…" he sang softly. He began to move his feet back and forth slowly. A slow dance. "You're a lovely wonder eminently practical and yet appropriate as always…Mrs. Lovett…how I've lived without you all these years I'll never know…"

Mrs. Lovett made a happy noise.

Sweeney Todd continued to sing to her. They turned in a circle so that he was facing the door. As he looked past Mrs. Lovett's wild mess of hair he saw Toby looking at them through the window of the door.

Under normal circumstances he would have throttled the boy, but circumstances certainly weren't normal. He wasn't in the mood.

Instead he thought that maybe, tomorrow, he would tell Toby that love was grand. Cryptically, because that was just how he was. But he would still tell him.


End file.
